


A Supernatural Polydimensional Witch-fic: The Wabash Cannonball

by LettreDeMarque



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Wizards, And Balthazar is a snarky cat, BAMF Castiel, Clueless Winchesters, Dimension Travel, Familiars, Magic, Modern Setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 15:57:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3073685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LettreDeMarque/pseuds/LettreDeMarque
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cassie," Balthazar flicked his tail as he told his witch. "I love you like family, but you're an idiot."</p><p>Castiel slumped as his friend and familiar chastised him. </p><p>"Honestly, whatever possessed you? You cross dimensions, bend the laws of time and space, and kill an evil wizard in cold blood because you missed the bloody train?" The familiar jibbed, "And for what? To spend some time with your little human pets?  It couldn't have waited for another time." The cat shook his head. "Of course not. Nobody knows time and fate as intimately as you. It was your only chance, but you're going to have to realize, Cassie, that some things just aren't meant to be."</p><p>"Balthazar, I-"</p><p>"Mortals, Castiel." Balthazar interrupted as he paced. "They are mortal and that is something you're not, something you haven't been for a very long time."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 “Dude, check this out.” Dean Winchester shoved his younger brother’s arm with his elbow to show Sam the news article that had caught his eye. “There’s an actual city called ‘Batman’. We should go there.”

“Sure Dean,” Sam Winchester said as he rolled his eyes. “Right after we visit Boring, Oregon and Dull, Scotland.”

Sam snatched the news paper out of his brother’s hand and tossed the rubbish newspaper into the nearest trashcan. The trashcan made a loud burp after digesting the articles and promptly gave an embarrassed, “’Scues me.” Most of the train station’s occupants ignored the gassy outburst, but the lamppost right next to the trashcan looked slightly scandalized.

The novelty of trashcans and lampposts having a little more character than what should have been normal had worn off years ago as did the train stations. The inventor of the curious devices was a very nostalgic sort and had named his apparatuses “Cannonballs” and the route became known as the Wabash line after the mythical train that carried the souls of old hobos to the Promised Land.

The land of Neyme wasn’t exactly the Promised Land, but it was close. It was a land of magic and was the reason the brothers had been able to study the art in school. Both Dean and Sam were recent graduates of their city’s magic program. The reason the brothers were graduating together was not because Dean was held back or Sam was more advanced. Children of the same families often had complementary abilities and it was more effective to train them together. It was a custom of Neyme’s that magic-users of Earth had readily adopted.

Dean would soon use his knowledge for a more mechanical application towards the family business and Sam would go on to study magic law. The bothers were taking the Wabash line to travel to Neyme’s cities of Seetie and Shawps for supplies. It would be their last shopping trip before they parted ways to move forward in their own careers. Dean wasn’t entirely comfortable with that idea.

 “Hello Dean,” a deep tone greeted. “And Sam.”

The brothers turned to see their upperclassman by two years, Castiel Novak. Castiel had graduated from the magic academy two years before them and had interacted with the brothers regularly on school trips as a guide and chaperone. The three of them had often been grouped together during their class breaks and had explored the sights of Neyme.

Castiel seemed to enjoy just going along with whatever the brothers were doing rather than make friends or see the sights by himself. Dean had chalked it up to Castiel being completely nerdy and just a tad odd. Pop references seemed to go over the young witch’s head entirely and his sense of fashion was about seventy years out of date. Dean had a secret affection for sharply pressed suits, but Castiel looked like he ironed his pants and shirts with flat iron.

“Hey, Cas,” the brother’s greeted their nerdy companion.

“Are you taking the line to Neyme as well,” Sam asked.

Tickets between worlds were expensive, but it was much more economical to purchase rare items in the Shawps street markets at a bargain than have the supplies shipped.  

Castiel shifted his backpack to on shoulder and nodded. “Yes. If it’s not too much trouble, may I accompany you two?”

The upperclassman’s expression was hopeful as he gazed at the two brothers. Dean suspected that Castiel had a puppy look that would give Sam’s a run for his money.

“Wouldn’t you rather go with your friends?” Sam asked. He wasn’t trying to be rude. The brother’s just sort of lived in their own bubble inside the world. Castiel hadn’t quite squeezed his way inside, but Sam suspected that if Castiel hadn’t been their chaperone for the past two years they could have been fast friends.

“They’re busy today,” Castiel replied some what sadly. “It’s harder to coordinate our schedules now that we’re graduated.”

Dean felt a sharp pang of emotion as the comment reminded him that he and Sam would be in the same boat going their separate ways.

Sam simply nodded. “Oh, I see. Of course you’re welcome.” Sam turned to his brother. “Right Dean?”

“No problem here,” Dean shrugged.

The timing of the trains was everything. Passengers would take trolley trains to the main platforms. There were one hundred and eight stations scattered around the world that had apparatuses that could cross over into Neyme and the crossing only happened twice a day at 1000 and 1700 hours.

Dean and Sam stood together with Castiel sitting only slightly off to the side. The cannonball would make no more than three platform stops before crossing over. At the last platform Dean noted the state of the surrounding houses.

“Being so close to the portal,” Dean said, “You’d think the neighbor hood would be better.”

Several of the houses were leaning on a bad foundation. One old hovel in particular looked exceptionally shabby like its own stubbornness (and possibly a wizard inhabitant) was the only things keeping it up. Dean commented on the little brown and red house and Castiel shifted uncomfortably.

“I- just remembered I needed to get something.” Castiel said as he stood up.

“But the train will be leaving in 15 minutes,” Sam argued.

“I’ll be back in five minutes,” Castiel promised. “Save my seat?”

They nodded and watched Castiel jump down from the platform rather than take the stairs. He entered the old brown and red hovel using a shining bronze key confirming that magic really was the only thing keeping the house together.

“Oh,” Dean said quietly humiliated. He hadn’t intended to come across as cruel. Being a witch didn’t automatically make one rich. He should have known better than to make assumptions.

The brothers waited and predictably Castiel failed to emerge from the house in time to catch the train adding to Dean’s sense of guilt. Sitting in the seat still was the witch’s backpack. It was unwise to mess around with a witch’s processions.

“It’ll be fine,” Sam said. “We’ll just give it back to him this evening.”

“Yeah,” Dean replied absently and walked over to pick up the bag.

 

* * *

To his great shame, Castiel panicked. The train had left without him quite by accident because of a scheduling error. The train departed two minutes early which was something most unusual and only attested to Casitel’s ill fortune.

He had to talk to Dean again.

Castiel knew the older Winchester would feel unnecessarily bad about putting his foot in his mouth. Granted the remark had been somewhat ignorant and cruel, but Castiel couldn’t fault him for it. A simple yet awkward explanation would have sufficed and Castiel needn’t to have fled. Castiel’s shack was exceedingly humble in its appearance, but he had been living there as long as he could remember. Embarrassment was unwarranted and yet an emotional squeeze pained the witch’s heart.

Witches, wizards, and mages were not the same. What defined a magic user was how they channeled their magic. Witches used familiars, wizards used staves, and mages used natural elements. These were mostly superficial titles because at its core all magic was the same. The key ingredient was the users own will.

Castiel stared at the invisible wall that separated one world from another. He knew the train would pass by Cain’s house, a historical site that Castiel knew intimately. He could will himself there just in time to catch the train.

It was risky. Actually even the thought was outright dangerous. It was far too easy to get lost amid the myriad of worlds.  Castiel wasn’t just anybody. It was a rare talent to be able to move between worlds unaided, but all in all useless because the act was very draining and not worth the risk.

But Castiel had panicked. In the few seconds after realizing he had missed the train Castiel ceased to think like a rational person and pictured Cain’s house with all the clarity he could manage.

Castiel had been obsessed with the land mark in school and had written hundreds of reports on the subject. Most people were enchanted with the legend of the battle of good and evil that had taken place there. It was a fairly standard story that nobody actually believed really happened, but Castiel had been determined to prove it had. He felt an inexplicable crushing need to find out the truth.

It was the Winchesters who had pulled him out of the fantasy. It was Sam and Dean who had made reality more interesting than stuffy books. Castiel had found the brothers very intriguing and drawn to them, especially Dean. He felt a strange kinship with the young man that he couldn't explain

Sam occasionally had visions of the future and Dean could see the past. Complementary gifts were not unusual in families. If Castiel hadn’t been an orphan, he would have liked to have seen what his siblings gifts would have been or perhaps his parents. The witch had wondered what gifts could complement the ability to move between worlds.

If Castiel had a proper family perhaps somebody could have stopped him from making such a grievous error. As Castiel crossed over he clearly envisioned the place he was going-

But he forgot to take in to account the time.

* * *

 

It was the darkness that alerted Castiel to his error. The atmosphere was saturated with the promise of rain like a widow holding herself back from shedding tears. Thunder groaned in the sky. Brief flashes of lighting both illuminated and blinded Castiel. The wind blasted to the witch’s core intent on stealing the warmth from deep in Castiel’s bones. The witch shivered in unease.

He remembered this night.

Castiel knew not how, but his body remembered the turmoil trying to rattle the world of its hinges. The air was filled with black magic causing the witch’s heart to race, but above all Castiel saw red. An unfamiliar, spell fueled, rage rocked the witch to the core. Instincts that had been slumbering for an inconceivable amount of time awakened within the witch and screamed in his mind.

Blood and anger. War.

Ahead in the darkness stood a figure dressed in black for stealth armed with a silver blade. Without thinking, Castiel surged forward using the element of surprise. He ripped the blade from its bearer and cut them down mercilessly. The act was done so swiftly, in a mere two well practice strokes, that by the time Castiel became aware of himself the conflict had ended and his opponent lay dead.

Castiel let the blade fall from his hands and he looked at his limbs stunned by his own act. What his mind shunned, his body recalled with ease. It was not the first smiting conducted by his hands and that thought sent a wave of fear and disgust through every single one of Castiel's core.

“Over here!” some one called. “I heard something!”

“Is it Abaddon?”

“What the hell-?”

Castiel ducked into some shrubbery to conceal himself from the three soldiers that approached. From his leafy hiding place Castiel could discern that the soldiers were dressed in shining armor with a crest of wings on their breasts. Their leader was a red haired woman who motioned to her two companions to investigate.

A dark skin soldier knelt to the ground and revealed the face of the fallen. He grimaced at the damage and nodded in affirmation. “It’s her.”

“Bloody hell,” the third soldier, a blonde male with an accent, said. “I know Abaddon had enemies, but this is brutal.”

“Who could have done this?” the dark skinned soldier asked.

“Castiel!” the red haired leader called.

Castiel flinched from where he hid and was about to surrender and reveal himself when a fourth soldier appeared. The concealed witch smothered a gasp with his fist as he gazed upon his own face staring unemotionally at the red haired soldier.

The other Castiel saluted. “I can detect no other energies than our own in the area.”

“It’s a mystery then,” the blonde said as he dusted off his hands. “There’s always a bigger fish.”

“But who’s to stop them from completing what Helel started?” the dark sin soldier asked.

“Nothing,” their leader concluded. “We must make preparations.” She turned to the other Castiel. “It is hard of me to ask this of you-“

“Never,” the other Castiel insisted. “I’m a soldier. My life is to the cause.”

Their leader touched the others Castiel’s shoulder affectionately, like one would a younger sibling. “I know,” she said. “That’s what makes this so hard Castiel. I feel as if the choice isn’t yours to make since you’re loyal to a fault.”

“There’s always a choice,” the other Castiel insisted. “Please, let me make the sacrifice.”

“Okay,” their leader said. “Very well. Thank you and I am so sorry.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

“Clarence,” the dark haired woman’s voice purred with irony as she said, “How good of you to finally remember me.”

Despite being weighted down by heavy chains the woman still managed to look smug as a cat behind the bars of her cell. Her skin was a healthy cream color, lighter than Castiel’s, and her form was filled out despite never touching so much as a crumb of food. She had Castiel for that. The two of them were linked more intimately than anyone else in the two realms. The only thing that usual separated them was the barrier between worlds and Castiel had proven time and again that was only a slight technicality.

“Meg,” Castiel made it sound more like an exhale than a name. “I killed Abby today.” He paused, “Well, it was today for me, at least.”

Meg snorted. “Yeah, well, your 'family' sucks. I’m sure the bitch had it coming.”

“You’re not evil.”

“And you’re no angel.” Meg chuckled. “That’s why they made it us, right? We’re like peas in a pod.”Meg rolled her eyes and tried to send a mental kick in Castiel’s direction when his shoulders stooped in guilt.

“Stop it,” she ordered. “You always get mopey when your memories return. It’s _fine_.”

“I should be the one locked up. I’m the murderer,” Castiel insisted.

“Like I haven’t done my fair share,” Meg countered. “How am I supposed to live vicariously through you if you’re locked up? Details, man, is he hot? He has to be for you to get all flustered and adorably stupid.” She studied him. “Do use both a favor and just bang your boy, preferably with leather involved to satisfy my kinky urges too.”

Castiel blushed when she winked at him.

“I just…” Castiel trailed off. “The spell was supposed to protect against rogue witches. They didn’t know about my specialty. I didn’t know, but Abaddon’s dead and now we know I’m the one who killed her. We don’t need the spell anymore!”

Meg frowned. “Castiel, they’ll kill you if you tell them. Abaddon wasn’t run of the mill and they’ll realize how strong you are.” She shifted uncomfortably against the wall of her cell. “And because we’re linked, they don’t have to even touch you. They have me. My pain is your pain. Your pleasure is my pleasure.”

“But Meg,” Castiel started.

“Besides,” Meg chirped. “If we broke the spell, how would the trains even run? You want to piss off about a million commuters just so I could take a stroll in the sunlight? Buddy, I don’t even tan. So what’s the point?”

“But you’re not happy here.” Castiel replied.

Meg sighed. “Neither are you. So scram. Go be happy and let me live vicariously through you like we always do.”

* * *

 

“Cas?”

Castiel blinked against the sudden light as he exited the underground vault. To Castiel’s surprise he had timed his exit to match perfectly with the train’s arrival. The same train he had missed that morning. For Castiel though, it felt like a week had gone by since he had seen Dean Winchester.

“You left your bag,” Dean explained with a confused look on his face. Castiel looked down and saw his back pack. He took it and slung it over his shoulder with a muted “thanks”.

The brothers exchanged looks.

“How did you beat us here?” Dean asked. “You missed the train.”

Sam looked down at Castiel’s dirt covered shirt. “Is that blood?”

“I apologize for the inconvenience.” Castiel said stiffly. “But something urgent has come up and I won’t be joining you today.”As he turned Dean reached over and caught is arm.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked although Castiel could see in his eyes Dean already knew the answer to his question. Rather than lying Castiel just shook his head. There was nothing Dean could do for him anyway. Instead the witch freed himself from his friend’s grip and walked away.

Dean’s mind’s eye stared at the vision of the past with growing confusion. He had caught a glimpse without meaning to only hoping to see what ailed his friend. Instead he saw a young version of Castiel confined to a stone cell with his face buried in his arms. The boy in the vision couldn’t have been more than twelve or so, but his clothes looked like they belonged to a museum. Even at a glance Dean could tell they were wool and hand made.

“Sam,” Dean asked quietly, “Who were the legendary warriors that fought in the battle Cain?”

“Hundreds, Dean,” Sam shrugged. “The names of only a few survived by being passed down word of mouth. Let’s see…I think there was Anael, Uriel, and Kassiel.”

“Castiel.” Dean’s mind corrected automatically. Dean wiped his sweaty palm on his pant leg. 

* * *

 

"Cassie," Balthazar flicked his tail as he told his witch, "I love you like family, but you're an idiot."

Castiel slumped against the wall of his hovel as his friend and familiar chastised him.

"Honestly, whatever possessed you? You cross dimensions, bend the laws of time and space, and kill an evil wizard in cold blood because you missed the bloody train?" The familiar jibbed, "And for what? To spend some time with your little human pets? It couldn't have waited for another time?"

The cat shook his head.

"Of course not.” The feline grumbled. “Nobody knows time and fate as intimately as you. It was your only chance to get close to green-eyes. You're going to have to realize, Cassie, that some things just aren't meant to be."

"Balthazar, I-"

" _Mortals_ , Castiel." Balthazar interrupted as he paced. "They are mortal and that is something you're not, something you haven't been for a very long time."

“I know,” Castiel sighed.

The witch ran a hand through his messy hair. He should go see the High Council and get his memories sealed again. Immortality was a burden especially for someone not born that way. Castiel wasn’t a soldier anymore. Since he had been the one to kill Abaddon and not a random dark wizard as originally feared the world didn’t need the spell anymore. The spell could be broken. He could separate from Meg and the two of them could have lives of their own again.

But the universe didn’t work like that. Part of slipping though space/time was catching glimpses of the possible futures. It wasn’t as accurate as Sam’s visions, but good enough. Since Castiel already knew what he was going to do next the vision was strikingly clear.

Castiel would free Meg because that was the right thing to do, but that would weave events ending with him and Dean on opposite sides of the conflict. Castiel buried his face in his arms. For the first time in a long, long time he wept. It was the first time he regretted joining the army to get out of a thief’s sentence. It was the first time he regretted accepting Anael’s proposal, meeting Meg, and killing Abaddon.

But never once did Castiel regret riding the Cannonball line with Dean Winchester.  

 


End file.
